


it's written in the stars (and the hieroglyphs)

by tillthestarsevaporate



Series: you're the night so you're the dark side (of the day you'll never see) [1]
Category: Epica (Band), Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Avatrice, Bea analyses lyrics, Comfort, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Music, POV Beatrice, Post-Season/Series 01, Running, Tea, flustered Beatrice, metalhead!Beatrice, sad Beatrice, supportive Ava, symphonic metal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillthestarsevaporate/pseuds/tillthestarsevaporate
Summary: Beatrice is secretly a metalhead. When Ava finds out, Beatrice takes it upon herself to introduce her to her favourite band.Part 2 of this “series” is an extra scene taking place right after this part ends.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Series: you're the night so you're the dark side (of the day you'll never see) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943683
Comments: 28
Kudos: 175





	1. One: In Nightly Rhyming

**Author's Note:**

> This started as "five times Beatrice thinks Ava is pretending to like her favourite band, and one time she realises Ava was never pretending," but things sort of spiralled out of control. I'll be posting one part every day, or every other day--I have everything written and ready.
> 
> I created a Spotify playlist of the songs mentioned in this fic, in the same order they appear in. Feel free to check it out  
> [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Z3IeZ5isB4UALesIWHwVf?si=N-rbUbc1T1OQyZ0EOlbUMQ)! 
> 
> Also, thanks to [organicdonut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/organicdonut/pseuds/organicdonut) for reading the first draft and giving me some feedback! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the story, and let me know what you think in the comments!

Beatrice’s room matched the sky in its darkness, a black facade with tiny bursts of light. For the sky, that light comprised the stars. In the room, it was the flickering light from the computer screen, illuminating Beatrice’s favourite blue and white pyjamas. She had to admit that it often hurt her eyes, especially now as she watched Epica’s tenth-anniversary concert and was intermittently half-blinded by the flashing stage lights.

It was all forgotten, though, when the red-haired singer graced the stage after the interlude, clad in a black dress beneath a black leather jacket, and Beatrice beamed. She wasn’t surprised, of course; Simone Simons was beautiful. And then her voice came ever so crisply through Beatrice’s headphones.

_“Follow your common sense_

_You cannot hide yourself behind a fairy tale_

_Forever and ever._

_Only by—”_

A light came from the direction of her door, and she squinted at the short figure standing in the doorway. She didn’t know many people who were that short, let alone ones at Cat’s Cradle, so she immediately knew who was there.

But even if she hadn’t, her reaction would’ve been the same. Quickly, she paused the video and minimised the tab before Ava came in. The back of her neck was too warm for comfort.

“Bea? Can I turn on the lights?”

Flustered, she nodded, before realising Ava couldn’t see her face. “Don’t you have your personal light in your back?” She joked in an attempt to distract Ava from her imminent questions, to distract herself. If she was lucky, Ava would forget whatever she came in for and leave without incident.

It took Ava all of two seconds to get to the light switch and flip it.

“I kept knocking,” Ava started. “But you—wait a minute, what were you doing?”

Beatrice stared at Ava’s scrunched brows. She looked suspicious. And why wouldn’t she? The _Mission Impossible_ theme played in Beatrice’s head as she quite literally fulfilled the prediction that was the film title.

“Nothing!” Beatrice said too quickly.

Ava came closer and sat on the edge of the bed next to Beatrice. She shook her head. “You’re wearing headphones and watching something in the dark. That’s not nothing. What was it?”

Beatrice cleared her throat to bide her time as she counted her losses, thinking of a response that’ll stop this conversation before it even began.

“Just a random video. You wouldn’t like it.”

_Wow, Beatrice. What a way to put a stop to the conversation!_

“Now I have to know what you were watching.”

Beatrice looked at Ava’s smirk and gave up quicker than her usual. She locked her computer and took off her headphones, got up to shut the door, then returned to her spot on the bed.

“Hmmm. Closed door. That serious, huh?” Ava teased. The smirk didn’t leave her lips.

Beatrice took a deep breath. “Yes and no.”

Ava waited for her to continue.

Why was she so reluctant to tell Ava what she was watching? She knows why she wouldn’t tell people, but this was Ava. Ava, who she’s felt comfortable enough with to share that little part of herself when they read Sister Melanie’s every in the Warrior Nun journal.

So she loved Metal, so what? Surely Ava would understand. It wasn’t even as big a deal.

_Everyone but you_ , she remembered what she had told her that day.

“So what is it? Bea?” Ava insisted, concern evident in her tone, and Beatrice immediately felt the need to ease that worry.

“No, no. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Okay?”

“Well...”

Ava’s face cleared up as if she’s just made an unprecedented discovery.

“You’re watching music videos. Wow, Bea, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a lover of music videos.”

“It’s a concert, actually. _Epica’s_ tenth-anniversary show. They play symphonic metal,” Beatrice started, then launched into a brief history of the band and the sub-genre, or as brief as was possible considering the amount of information her brain has stored about symphonic metal. She told Ava how _Epica_ records with an orchestra and choir, and how, at that anniversary show, they had everyone with them on stage instead of the band playing with the pre-recorded portions of the orchestral parts.

Ava interjected. “That’s great.” She smiled, but Beatrice couldn’t infer whether it was out of politeness or genuine interest. Knowing Ava, the latter was more likely. “But Bea?”

Beatrice readied herself for another iteration of the I-didn’t-expect-a-nun-to-be-into-metal conversation.

“Why were you blushing when I came in?”

Beatrice’s face got even redder as if it had a mind of its own and insisting on proving Ava’s point.

“And now again.” Ava raised her eyebrows.

Beatrice remained silent while Ava seemed intent on Sherlock-ing the _hell_ out of the situation.

Beatrice could almost see the gears turning in Ava’s mind before they came to a halt. “There’s only one explanation.”

“What’s that?” Bea asked.

“That singer.” Ava declared triumphantly.

_Too hot—the room! The room was too hot._

Ava surprised her by chortling so loudly that Beatrice had to join her, albeit with more nervous than genuine laughter.

“Now you have to show me,” Ava said when she calmed down moments later.

Beatrice didn’t know where her reluctance disappeared, but she wasn’t complaining. She unlocked her computer and brought up the video tab again, which had been paused on a still of the singer, smiling. _How convenient._

She turned the screen towards Ava, whose eyes widened so quickly that Beatrice burst into more laughter.

“Woah,” Ava said. “I see why you love her.”

Beatrice slowly shook her head. “Trust me, you have no idea.”

Ava grinned for what felt like the hundredth time. “Maybe you should help me, then. Give me some songs to listen to. Like three? Maybe four?”

“You want me to pick just four of my favourite band’s songs.”

“Favourite band, you say? That deserves ten songs, don’t you think?”

Beatrice didn’t know what to do with that. On one hand, Ava always was so enthusiastic whenever they talked, but on the other hand, what if she was just being nice and would never actually listen to the songs? Beatrice hater to admit that it would break her heart.

There was absolutely no way she would get her hopes up.

“Really?” Beatrice asked.

Ava’s face lost some of its playfulness as she said, “Of course, Bea. If it’s that important to you, I want to know what it’s all about.”

Beatrice smiled. What was that strange feeling in her chest?

“Plus, if that singer sounds as good as she looks, this is going to be epic.”

Beatrice blushed again. “Believe me, you won’t be disappointed.”

After Ava left the room, Beatrice realised she hadn’t asked her what she came in for in the first place. But she brushed the thought away; she’d ask Ava later. Now, although she had no idea what kind of music Ava liked, she needed to get to work carefully curating a playlist strong enough to pull Ava in without overwhelming her.

Beatrice would do that, she promised herself.

Just after finishing her eighth—or ninth?—rewatch of the concert.


	2. Two: Blank Infinity

Days passed with no mention of music. Not wanting to push anything on Ava, Beatrice decided there was no need to mention the playlist she sent her. She’d let Ava start the conversation. That was, if she wanted.

She was now heading to the training area when she spotted Ava, red-faced, out of breath. Drenched in what could only be sweat, since the sun’s light was merciless today. She was sprinting in the opposite direction—towards their rooms. A pair of earphones stuck to the skin beneath her small earlobes. Soft earlobes, which of course Beatrice knew because of that time she touched them in the heat of the moment, after Ava successfully passed through the twenty feet of concrete. 

Now, Ava beamed, her immediate and mostly consistent reaction whenever she saw Beatrice.

She stopped, coming close enough for Beatrice to hear her whisper. “Your playlist? Some songs are perfect for working out.”

Ava’s closeness unsettled her to unspeakable degrees. She didn’t know what to do with her eyes, where to look. Not to mention her chest tightening prematurely; she hadn’t even began her training.

“Especially _Once Upon a Nightmare_ ,” Ava added.

“See, Ava, now I know for certain you are humouring me.”

“What? Why?”

Beatrice took a deep breath. “That song is a ballad. A power ballad, but a ballad nonetheless.”

Ava paused, as if thinking of a comeback that wouldn’t give her away. “Well, I . . . like working out to slow music. Calms me down so I can . . . eh . . . focus on my body.”

_Focus on my body_.

_Who turned off the air-conditioning?_

“Really?”

A distraction. She needed a distraction. And quickly. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Any other songs that particularly stood out?”

Ava thought for a second, then said with a smirk, “No. Not really.”

To say Beatrice was disappointed would be an understatement. At least Ava took the time to listen.

“Next time you go for a run, add _Chemical Insomnia_ to your playlist.”

“Hmm . . . interesting name. I will!” Ava was beaming, and it was contagious. 

“I should go shower,” Ava said.

_What’s with my face today?_

Beatrice nodded, the smile not leaving her lips despite Ava’s distracting presence.

“See you later,” Ava called as she sprinted in the direction Beatrice had come from.

Now, as she tried to focus on her training, she wondered if Ava was indeed telling the truth about slow music helping her _focus on her body_.

And she blushed again.

~~~~

“Good morning,” said Beatrice the next day as she took her usual seat next to Ava.

Ava looked at her and yawned.

She playfully slapped Ava’s arm, her brain making a decision that she had no time to talk herself out of.

_Behave, Beatrice!_

“What?” asked Ava in a barely audible whisper. Her voice was too hoarse that Beatrice worried.

“Ava, are you coming down with something?” She reached her palm out to check Ava’s forehead. That seemed to chase the sleep away from Ava’s eyes.

Ava cleared her throat, alerting Beatrice to what she was doing. She quickly pulled back.

“I’m fine, Bea. Just didn’t sleep well last night. Was, uh, busy.”

Her voice was clearer now, and Beatrice visibly relaxed. She wondered what had kept Ava up so late.

_I know something that could_ , said a traitorous part of her mind.

Beatrice shook her head. “I have just the thing to wake you up.”

Ava shrugged, while Beatrice took out her phone, composing a message, and pressing **SEND**.

She breathed deeply in anticipation of Ava’s possible response. Beatrice closed her eyes and puffed her chest before announcing, “It’s the Ultimate Epica Workout Playlist. Or the UEWP.” She didn’t even plan on calling it that, but she liked the name and knew the acronym was going to get a few giggles out of Ava.

Proving Beatrice right, Ava’s eyes widened, before she doubled over in laughter.

At least now she was awake.

What Beatrice didn’t tell Ava was that she’d thrown in some power ballads, too. After all, Ava wanted to focus on her body _._

~~~~

Two days later, Beatrice was surprised when Ava told her, ever so proudly, that her new favourite workout song was _Edge of the Blade_.

Beatrice felt like screaming but stopped herself at a wide smile instead, promising herself a scream-in-the-pillow session once she was back in her room.

Ava didn’t comment on the ballads she had added to the list, though. 

“Anything that surprised you in there?”

Ava tapped her chin for a moment. “ _Blank Infinity_ was very catchy. I heard it at least three times in a row.”

_Good_ , Beatrice thought, but still suspected Ava was playing her. “It’s a great song, I agree.”

“It’s also a great playlist, thank you,” said Ava, smiling sincerely.

Beatrice considered the possibility of Ava having told the truth. Could it be that Ava was still easing into running as exercise, having been stuck in her bed for years, that she indeed needed, or wanted, to focus on her body and therefore enjoyed the slower songs? The only way to confirm, Beatrice decided, was to see it for herself.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “Oh, and Ava? We should go on a run together at some point. How about tomorrow morning?”

Ava visibly swallowed. Was that reluctance Beatrice sensed? There was a beat of silence, but then Ava responded.

“Sounds great.”

What was that Epica lyric?

_“Learn to trust your senses deep within.”_

~~~~

Knowing about the next morning’s run did not make it easy for Beatrice to fall asleep that night. Not that she usually went to sleep easily; more often than not, her brain worked past her bedtime, with no overtime pay.

She spent the better part of the next two hours fidgeting as she pondered possibility after possibility of what could happen in the morning. It seemed childish to let such trivial matters consume her mind, she knew. After all, it was only a run, and Beatrice only wanted to figure out Ava’s deal with the ballads. Up until that point in their friendship, Ava had never lied—to Beatrice’s knowledge, at least—but this time, Beatrice had a strong suspicion.

More importantly, though, Beatrice had to ask herself: why did this matter to her so much?

She supposed it was because she finally found someone who seemed genuinely interested in her music taste. And when that one person happened to be Ava, it felt like a sign.

She didn’t want to think about the potential disappointment that always accompanied her recommending Epica to her friends back in the day. For them, it was just a band. They didn’t know how often that band’s music has been there for her when no one else was.

Perhaps Ava might understand, considering everything she’s been through. Was it too much to ask for, to want to avoid disappointment? In Beatrice’s experience, yes.

Even though there was a chance Ava would love those ballads as much as her, even if Beatrice thought they didn’t fit a workout playlist.

_Well, you shouldn’t have asked if you were so scared of the answer_ , the logical part of her brain scolded. She ignored it, or rather tried to.

She _had_ to know.

When she eventually fell asleep, the last image on her mind was Ava’s smile that first time Beatrice thought about kissing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to check out the fic playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Z3IeZ5isB4UALesIWHwVf?si=N-rbUbc1T1OQyZ0EOlbUMQ)!


	3. Three: Chasing the Dragon

The next morning, Beatrice heard a knock on the door through the haze of sleep, a knock that registered as only a dream until she heard the loud friction of the coils against the rail as someone opened the curtains. She always rose before dawn, so when the sunlight hurt her eyes, she panicked, realising she slept in. Slept in quite late.

And who was the aggressor responsible for her semi-violent awakening?

She looked at the bedside alarm clock.

9 A.M.

_Alarm,_ she thought _. Alarmed. Alarm, alarmed. Huh. Ava would appreciate that pun._

_Oh my God!_

It was nine o’clock.

In the morning.

It was nine o’clock and she was still asleep.

Beatrice shot up into a sitting position, threw the covers away, and jumped out.

Her head hurt from the sudden movement, and she reprimanded herself for not being careful yet again.

How did no one notice her absence until now? Apparently, someone has, of course. A little late, but it still counted. As if on cue, Beatrice heard amused laughter.

How had she not yet checked to see who was in her room?

But that laugh didn’t leave room for wondering.

“What!” She sternly eyed Ava, who stood by the window. Beatrice had to look away because of Ava’s strategic standing position, right at the source of light.

Ava cackled louder. _Of course._

“What are you laughing at?”

Ava caught her breath and said, “Where do I begin?” She pointed at Beatrice’s pyjamas.

Or lack of.

She wasn’t naked, was she?

No.

She simply slept in her undergarments.

And Ava saw everything.

Normally, Beatrice would be embarrassed. Normally, she would rush to grab the blanket to cover herself.

But Ava was laughing, and Beatrice wondered. If the situation had been reversed, Beatrice’s cheeks would have been too warm by now. She would have fled the scene as quickly as she could while saving face. She definitely would not have been laughing.

_I can’t help it. It’s my default._

Perhaps that was it. Laughter was Ava’s coping mechanism.

“My clothes are not funny, Ava.”

“What clothes?” Ava grinned, her laughter dying down.

Beatrice sighed.

“And how your eyes widened and you jumped off the bed? That was epic!”

_Epic. Epica! Their run!_

“Oh, Ava, I’m so sorry I missed our run!”

“Eh . . . Yeah, no problem. You missed breakfast too.”

“Obviously.” Beatrice lifted her eyebrows and pointed at the alarm clock. “Let me just . . . get ready. If you don’t mind?” She ushered with her hands, indicating that Ava should leave and give her some privacy to change.

Ava started wandering about the room, as if she was reluctant to leave. Or she was simply oblivious. Beatrice decided the latter was more likely.

“Ava? Some privacy?”

That was when Ava flushed and looked at her feet.

Beatrice suppressed a sigh of relief while Ava stumbled over her words.

“We could still go for that run, you know?” she finally said, still staring at the floor.

“But your combat training with Mary starts in—” Beatrice checked the time “—ten minutes”— _Great, now Ava knows you know her training schedule_ —“I think.”

Ava looked up at her, realised she shouldn’t be, and returned her gaze to the floor.

“It’s okay, Ava. You can look up. For now.” _Not really, but Beatrice couldn’t stand the sight of an uncomfortable Ava._

Ava obliged her, but not fully, continually turning from Beatrice’s face to the floor. “So yeah, I’ll probably ditch combat training.”

“And have Mary throw me off a cliff? I don’t think so.”

“Nah, Mary loves you.” Ava smiled so widely one would have thought she was talking about herself, not Mary.

“That won’t stop her.”

“Don’t worry,” Ava said, finality in her tone. “I’ll meet you at the gate in what, twenty minutes?”

Beatrice mentally calculated the time she’d need to get ready, deciding to take her chances with Mary. “Fifteen,” she told Ava.

Ava nodded and walked towards the door.

“And Ava?” Ava looked at her, seemingly lost in thought. “Thank you.”

She didn’t think anyone but her could read the hesitation, the unease, in Ava’s stance. But she nodded, beaming, and left the room.

That smile, Beatrice noticed, did strange things to her.

~~~~

Before they started, Beatrice told Ava that they should listen to the playlist in the same order. “Just so we get to run together.”

“So we are in synch,” Ava said.

“Exactly.” Ava wasn’t resisting. Beatrice’s brilliant plan was off to a successful start.

And so they ran, circling the courtyard. The playlist was predictable, playing in the same order Beatrice chose when she first made it.

_Natural Corruption_ was a good start, easing them into things. _Sensorium_ and _Never Enough_ took things up a notch. When _Edge of the Blade_ started, Beatrice looked at Ava, who turned at the same time and smiled at her. Because of how rarely she experienced it, the inside conversation she was having with Ava, the idea of it, even, unsettled her.

_“Hey! This is the one I loved!” Ava seemed to say._

_“I know.” That would be Beatrice, her chest puffed, her smile wide, pleased that Ava is giving her a chance._

Ava was so free-spirited her emotions were always painted all over her face. Speaking of which, Ava turns her head forward.

_Always, always watch where you’re going_ , she had told Ava at one point during training.

Beatrice’s smile now was one of pride. She looked forward as well, her steps matching the beat of the song, of Ava’s strides.

_Once Upon a Nightmare_ , Beatrice’s favourite, was next. It was also the first test of her suspicion that Ava was lying. It wasn’t the best test, she knew, because it was such a beautiful song with a strong build-up and an even stronger pay-off towards the end. It wasn’t hard to listen to while working out, especially knowing what she was in for.

Beatrice had goosebumps as the song reached its crescendo, but Ava did not react. Not outwardly, at least. For all Beatrice knew, Ava could be picturing penguins in her head, not even paying attention to the song.

_Plenty of chances yet to prove the hypothesis._

_Victims of Contingency_ played next, giving Beatrice and Ava a strong push as they picked up their pace. “It’s not a competition, Ava!”

They were saved by the second ballad, _Deep Water Horizon_ , and Beatrice did her best to inconspicuously observe Ava’s facial expressions, lowering the volume in her headphones to concentrate. Ava closed her eyes for a beat too long, then turned her attention to the road.

_Delirium_ followed, yet another slow one. That was when Ava halted. Beatrice caught up and stopped to check on her.

“Okay, fine! I was skipping those songs,” Ava said, panting heavily. “Except _Once Upon a Nightmare_ because it builds up nicely.” She paused, then said in a voice so uncharacteristically low for her, “And I know you love it, so it reminds me of you.” The sweat shone on her forehead. Her eyebrows.

Her upper lip

Beatrice was trying really, _really_ hard not to dwell on these . . . thoughts.

Of her hesitation before she uttered those last words.

Of her red-faced, mischievous grin as she admitted to skipping the songs. But, of course, Beatrice couldn’t help but conjure her I-was-right smirk.

“But!” Ava continued, “I listened to them later on and loved them.”

Beatrice couldn’t precisely explain how she felt in that moment. She was smug, of course. But she also admired Ava’s honesty, and her decision to not say anything negative. Her consideration for Beatrice’s feelings.

“So, the part about focussing on your body was a lie,” Beatrice stated.

“Yes, it—wait, you were thinking about—”

“No!”

“Wow, Bea. Shame on you!”

“Ava, no. I was merely curious. That was all, I promise.”

_Why was it too warm all of a sudden?_ Beatrice wondered.

Ava shook her head. “If you say so.”

_That easy? Where is the catch? There has to be a catch!_

“Thank you, by the way,” Beatrice found herself saying.

“For what?”

Where would Beatrice begin? The day has been a mess so far, but it was a _nice_ mess, an enjoyable mess, thanks to Ava. First, she’d woken her up—late—but Ava’s light-heartedness had effortlessly dissolved Beatrice’s stress about sleeping in. Then she ditched her own training—consequences yet unknown—to accompany her although she was the one to miss their planned time. And now, telling her the truth like that and finding out she was loving Beatrice’s favourite band.

Beatrice was definitely not disappointed.

She settled on, “A lot of things,” and smiled, hoping Ava understood how grateful she was for her company.

It was indeed a big change of pace from her routine, but a good one.

~~~~

Nearing the end of their route, they were listening to _Kingdom of Heaven_.

As usual, during that song, Beatrice couldn’t help but dance. It was more like chaotic movement, if she was being honest, but she showed no qualms, and Ava’s stare didn’t faze her. She just grinned and kept running.

When it was over, Beatrice removed her headphones and stopped to catch her breath.

Ava was on the verge of laughter—nothing new. She also stopped. “Woah.”

“What?” Beatrice asked, beaming, feeling her warm cheeks.

“Was that supposed to be dancing?”  
“I suppose.” She said it seriously, but her face, she knew, was the complete opposite.

Ava waited for more, crossing her arms. Watching her. She felt the force of her attention like a scorching sun on the hottest day of the year.

“It’s like I have no control over my body when this song comes on. There is just something about it, especially at the Latin part.”

Ava’s eyes widened. “You’re such a badass!”

“Language!”

Ava mimed thinking, her thumb and forefinger cupping her chin. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“I mean, it’s true,” Ava mumbled. “What else am I going to find out? That you know hieroglyphs?”

Beatrice chuckled. _Hieroglyphs!_

“It would be so cool if you did, though.”

“Indeed. But it isn’t practical. I would never need it.”

“You have a point,” Ava said, taking out her phone and looking at the screen. “ _Kingdom of Heaven_ , huh? Interesting title.”

Beatrice shrugged. “Believe it or not, it took me years to fully appreciate that one. It used to be one of those songs I always skipped, thinking it’s too long or too heavy for me. We both know where that got me now.” She was rambling, but who can blame her? She loved how easy it felt to talk to Ava. “I mean, you will never know how incredible the musicianship in the band is until you listen to that song, and I mean actually listen to it.”

“Well, I like it. Especially that _dance_ ,” Ava teased.

Beatrice rolled her eyes. She moved towards Ava’s ear. Her eyes fixated for a second on the fruity smell of her hair. “I suppose now you know all my secret dance moves,” she whispered in her ear, a teasing lilt in her voice, and ran away.

“It _is_ a competition!” She heard Ava shouting, running after her.

_That was flirting, Beatrice_ , her brain told her. Her heart beat too fast.

And not because she was running.


	4. Four: Words and Melodies with a Touch of Colouring

_“When you think you’ve succeeded_

_But something’s missing_

_Means you have been defeated_

_By greed, your weakness.”_

Beatrice was staring at her computer screen, lost in thought reading the lyrics of _Another Me_. She’s read them before—more times than she could count—but some lines, like this one, still occasionally caught her off-guard.

A knock sounded on the door. She took a second to break out of her musings then got up to open the door.

“Hey, Bea,” Ava said, entering the room without waiting for permission.

Not that Beatrice would’ve kicked her out, of course.

“Hello, Ava.” Beatrice closed the door and returned to her desk chair, while Ava flopped down onto the bed.

“What’s up?” Ava asked.

Beatrice raised her eyebrows. _What’s up?_

Beatrice wouldn’t have let anyone else infringe on her privacy like that, but to do it for nothing urgent was a completely different story. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered.

“Oh, what’s that? Coffee?” Ava pointed at Beatrice’s lid-covered blue mug on the desk.

“Peppermint tea.” Beatrice suppressed a sigh. “How are you, Ava? How is your training going?”

Ava formed an ‘O’ with her thumb and index finger as she said, “Perfecto!”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

Ava only shrugged. “So, peppermint tea, huh?”

“What’s wrong with peppermint tea?” Beatrice asked, confused.

“Nothing,” Ava said quickly. “I just . . . I read that people usually drink it when they’re stressed.”

It took Beatrice longer than it should have to figure out Ava’s meaning, thanks to all the mind-bending lyrics she’s been consuming for the past hour.

“You’re worried. About me.”

“Yes, dummy,” Ava said, catching Beatrice off-guard—she’s never been called that before. “Well, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She was touched by Ava’s concern.

“I am. I just wanted to concentrate on something. It also helps me sleep sometimes.”

“Makes sense.”

“I also love its taste,” Beatrice added.

Ava got up and walked closer to the desk, squinting at the screen. Beatrice watched as the other woman got closer, and didn’t know what to do with her eyes once Ava was a breadth away from them.

“What does that say?” she asked, pointing at the one line on the screen that’s not in English.

“That says, ‘In Lack’ech’. It’s Mayan for ‘Another Me’.”

Ava’s face lit up in awe. “You know what, I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. I’ll just assume you know all languages until proven otherwise.”

“I don’t know Mayan, Ava.”

“Proven otherwise. Okay, all languages _but_ Mayan.” Ava grinned, and it was apparently contagious, because Beatrice couldn’t help her wide smile. “ _And_ hieroglyphs.”

“So that’s Epica for you. They won’t stop at Latin, no. No.”

“No wonder you love them so much.”

Beatrice almost started rambling but had to make a conscious effort to stop herself. Instead, she said, “So Ava, are you so bored that you had no other option but to come hang out with _me_?”

On second thought, she should’ve stopped herself from talking altogether.

“I lo—like spending time with you.”

“You’re only saying that because—”

“I am not!”

“Ava—”

“I am not. And to prove it, I’m going to sit here and listen to you talk about Epica for as long as you want.” Ava’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

“You don’t mean that.” Beatrice watched Ava fondly. “You will regret it.”

_You’re just scared you’ll bore her to death._

Ava shook her head. “Tell me about your favourite lyrics.”

How was she supposed to choose?

“That’s basically their entire discography, Ava.” Beatrice gawked.

“You’ve got to start somewhere, Bea.”

“The thing is, as you may have noticed from what you’ve heard so far, their lyrics can be quite convoluted,” she said. “Reality, consciousness, time, space. That sort of thing.”

“Go on. It’s not like I didn’t already know you are a genius.”

“Let me pick something less . . . epic. Still epic, of course, but less so.” Beatrice opened a new tab on her computer and searched up the lyrics of _Once Upon a Nightmare_. “This, Ava, is my favourite song.”

“Then it’s the _epic-est_ of them all!”

Beatrice smiled. “If you say so.

“It’s inspired by a dark German fairy tale about the Alder King, who steals children’s souls. It’s the story of a boy dying in his father’s arms. His father doesn’t know what’s happening, but the boy sees the King stealing his soul and can do nothing about it.”

“That’s dark,” said Ava.

“Indeed. It’s a metaphor. For how our innocence is stolen the moment we are born. And yet, the song has a hopeful ending.”

Ava mimicked a brain explosion with her fists, making a _poof_ sound as her fists opened up. Beatrice eyed her seriously.

“Sorry,” Ava said with a sheepish grin. “Go on.”

Beatrice nodded. “This one you’ll like, I think.” She showed her the lines from _Monopoly on Truth_.

_“Can we trust all the facts and believe that the fancied wise are just and needed?_

_Do we want to rely on the views of the righteous ones who are succeeding?”_

Ava’s jaw dropped. “Damn.”

Beatrice looked at her. “Yes.”

“That’s, like, it perfectly describes everything that happened in the last weeks.”

“That’s why it punches me in the face now more than it used to,” Beatrice said, turning back to the screen. “There is also this line that’s . . . really personal.”

She brought it up on the screen.

_“I am a silhouette of the person wandering in my dreams.”_

Ava stared at it for longer than it should’ve taken her to read it.

“I’ve never related to anything more.” Beatrice’s heart beat a little faster at her admission. Why was it so easy to tell Ava things?

“It’s perfect.”

She felt a flutter in her chest and her lips parted as she glanced at Ava, her face illuminated by the screen. She looked thoughtful, quiet. Unusually so. It was unnerving.

Almost as if it was never there, Ava’s frown disappeared. “Bea. This is my new favourite lyric,” she whispered, looking at her.

Seeing her.

She had always thought books exaggerated things, but it was all right here, right in front of her: the look that squeezed her heart into trillions of pieces, put it back together, clutched it in its grip, and never let go.

“Yet another thing we have in common.”

Ava gave her _that_ smile, the one she knew was different from her usual I-am-happy-all-the-time ones. The one she didn’t often see, but transfixed her when she did. She was mesmerised.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” Ava said, turning her head. Her eyes bored into Beatrice’s.

_Too much._

It was too much. Beatrice had to look away.

She took a deep breath and directed her eyes to the screen.

_The screen, Bea. Nowhere else._

“At this point, I would be shocked if there are any Epica songs you don’t love,” Ava interrupted the silence.

_Thank you, Lord. Something she can talk about instead of thoughts of Ava’s eyes._

“Actually, there is. Most of the time, ‘Not yet,’ is the best descriptor for any songs I don’t immediately love. But then I realised there are some things I’ll probably never enjoy.”

Ava listened, giving Beatrice her undivided focus—another rarity.

Beatrice continued, “I can safely say there is one song that . . . Let’s just say it doesn’t align with my beliefs. In fact, it makes me quite mad. So I avoid it.”

Ava snorted.

“Now _that_ is simply rude, Ava.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Her face was serious again. “That wasn’t . . .”

Beatrice grimaced. “It wasn’t?”

“Okay, let me double back. I’m laughing because that preamble made me think there are several songs you don’t like, not just one.”

_Fair point._ Was it?

“Your jokes are a downer sometimes. This is serious, Ava.”

“Is it though? It’s just music.”

“Music that was there for me when no one else was.” She fixed Ava with a stare that said, _“Please understand this.”_

“I’m sorry. I should’ve known better,” Ava said, twisting her arms behind her back, puppy-eyed.

Beatrice sighed. _Why did she have to be so weak in the face of cuteness?_

“It’s fine, Ava.”

“Your tea is probably cold, though,” Ava said, changing the subject too quickly.

“I suppose. Might have to warm it up later. Unless . . .” Beatrice paused.

“Unless?”

_Unless you want to stay and talk more,_ she wanted to say.

“What else do you know about tea?” Beatrice lifted her head.

Ava repeatedly tapped her forefinger on her chin. “Umm . . . I know ginger tea lowers blood pressure.” Ava raised her eyebrows in the way only Anime characters could. “Wait, do you have high blood pressure?”

Beatrice laughed. “No, no problems there. Don’t worry.”

“Just making sure.”

“It’s getting late—” Beatrice’s quick change of heart was inexplicable; one moment she wanted Ava to stay, the next she got flustered and basically kicked her out.

“I should probably go—” Ava said at the same time. She walked to the door.

Beatrice turned in her seat and smiled at Ava. “Have a good night.”

“You too, Bea.” Ava nodded, giving her a soft smile.

With that, Ava was gone, the door shut once again. The room was in the same state as before Ava entered, but Beatrice wasn’t.

And Beatrice’s heart soared.


	5. Five: Tears of Unprecedented Beauty

It was rare for Beatrice to lose track of time.

She was always too aware of her surroundings: the people, what they were doing, and the passage of time.

Except when she felt like she did right now.

The moment she was done with training and other commitments for the day, she had returned to her room and hadn’t left since. She had put on more comfortable clothes, picked the appropriate playlist, and turned the lights off. As she let the music play and lay on her bed, the tears sprang to her eyes, slow to come yet unstoppable.

The problem was that nothing in particular had happened to trigger her retreat into her shell. It was simply her remembrance of the days before joining the order, the days when her parents, on the few occasions they were home, felt the need to criticise her every decision, her every choice. Even when she didn’t have a choice—she was too young to make any choices or to know who she is, they had said.

The memories never completely ceased. They would come and go, flickering storms of sadness, and she’d learned to ignore them, to pretend they never were. Until she couldn’t. And then she’d retreat to her room for a day and would be as good as new the following day. Aware of her desire for privacy on most days, the other sister warriors never bothered her once they knew she was in her room for the night.

Little did she know that was about to change.

_“Black was the night when I did surrender_

_I did give in to my weakening side_

_Now that I'm empty_

_My dreams once were many_

_Soul’s bitter cry to unleash the divine.”_

When she heard the words from _Delirium_ , her door squeaked open. The lack of knocking immediately told her who was there.

“Bea! Watching another live show?” came Ava’s excited voice.

She didn’t have the energy for this back-and-forth, she didn’t move a muscle.

Seeming to notice the absence of light from a screen, Ava asked, “Are you okay?”

_Obviously not, Ava! Why do I have to spell everything out for you?_

Ava flicked the light switch, and Beatrice squeezed her closed eyes in reflex. She felt the gradual dimming of light near her and the boisterous footfalls meeting her ears. The bed dipped next to her, and she felt a warm hand on her arm.

“Bea? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, giving Ava a split-second glance and closing her eyes again.

“You listening to sad music in the dark and crying is nothing? And might I add that it’s not any sad music, but the existential kind?” After a long pause where Beatrice didn’t respond, Ava rubbed her arm. “Let me get you something to eat.”

Beatrice wanted to refuse, to tell Ava not to. To tell her that she very much wanted some solitude. But then she heard her stomach grumbling. She had to admit, to herself only, that she was hungry. Likely dehydrated as well.

Ava closed the door as she disappeared for about ten minutes, the length of _Higher High_ and a section of _Serenade of Self-Destruction_. She returned carrying a seemingly heavy tray, if her shaking hands were any indication.

“That’s a lot of food for one person, Ava,” Beatrice said flatly.

“Who said it’s for one person?” Ava grinned at her as she set the tray on a chair and sat next to her on the bed, pulling the chair close.

Beatrice noticed how warm the vegetable soup was. And the meat strips.

And the rice.

Her eyes widened.

As if reading her thoughts, Ava said, “Cook loves me.” She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Like having Cook warm food this late was an easy feat. “Now eat,” Ava said softly.

Beatrice didn’t know what to start with, and Ava mistook her indecision for reluctance.

“But even if you don’t eat, I’m not going anywhere.”

 _You’ll always have us_ , she had told Ava that day they were training at Arq-tech.

She gave Ava a faint smile, one she hadn’t thought would willingly come out of her today, and reached for the soup bowl and a spoon.

When the first warm sips graced her tongue, she heard herself exhale loudly. _Cook never made a less-than-perfect meal_ , she thought. She already felt better, if only a little, as her stomach started filling up.

Ava beamed and dug into the rice. She ate quietly, unlike her usual demeanour around good food.

Beatrice had forgotten the music was still playing. That is, until they were both quiet enough for a particular line to hit their ears.

_“I’d rather die than breathe in my shame.”_

“I mean, I know that song has a very cool beat, but that part is really depressing.”

“It is,” Beatrice said, nodding. “It’s the most depressing song I have ever heard. And I have heard plenty.”

“And yet?” Ava prompted.

“And yet, it’s one of the first songs I fell in love with. It’s this pure kind of sadness. Most sad songs have hopeful, or slightly less hopeless, conclusions.”

Ava raised her eyebrows.

“It’s a scale. A metaphor for how in life, change takes time. You can’t expect things to change from zero to a hundred directly.” Beatrice chewed on a softened carrot, swallowed it, and continued, “This song doesn’t, though. Which is ironic, because it’s one the band’s longest songs.”

“There’s the Bea I know.” Ava looked amused. She repeatedly scrunched her face, seemingly chewing a particularly sticky piece of meat.

Beatrice couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her. She looked back at the remains of her food as a few seconds of silence passed. She felt thirsty, but didn’t want to ask too much of Ava—she’s already done so much for her today. Ava bent down and magically produced a bottle of water from the floor next to the bed. The appreciation coursing through Beatrice’s veins was on a high.

“Thank you,” Beatrice told her and downed the whole bottle as Ava stared at her.

“There’s that line again!” Ava said excitedly, referring to the line Beatrice had told her was her favourite days earlier.

_“I am a silhouette of the person wandering in my dreams.”_

“You remember?” Beatrice asked, unable to hide her surprise.

“I told you it’s my new favourite line!”

Beatrice gave Ava a tight-lipped smile.

“Bea? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“The next time you feel like crying to depressing music, tell me. You shouldn’t be alone when you’re feeling like this.”

“You know, Ava, sometimes things get too much, and, even though I know I’ll come out the other side, when I’m this deep, it’s hard to remind myself of that.” Beatrice didn’t offer further explanation, and Ava didn’t ask for one. She seemed content to just be there.

“I know. I can help with that reminding yourself part,” Ava said.

 _Maybe things will be all right after all_.

“I’ll try to tell you next time. But you should know it’s not easy for me to ask for help, so it might take a few tries.”

Ava nodded. “Better late than never, right?”

“Agreed.”

Ava stood, putting the tray away on the desk and dimming the lights. “Scoot over,” she said, gesturing with her hand towards the bed. Beatrice was surprised by her short-lived hesitation as she moved to the side, making room for the other woman. Without hesitation, Ava jumped next to her under the covers and put her arm around her shoulders.

Beatrice noticed the music volume had been lowered, likely Ava’s doing, but said nothing.

She said nothing, because, at that moment, maybe she didn’t need the music as much as she thought, not with Ava there keeping her company. She even reached for her phone and paused the music altogether.

She laid her head in the space between Ava’s shoulder and her collarbone. She closed her eyes and snuggled into Ava, who wrapped both arms around her and held her close. Beatrice watched the slow rise and fall of Ava’s chest, heard Ava’s heartbeat. It soothed her for no reason she could think of other than that she always felt calmer, more at ease, with Ava.

They fell asleep like that.

When Beatrice stirred late into the night, Ava was still there.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

What she didn’t see was Ava’s answering smile as they both fully succumbed to slumber.


	6. Plus One: Retrospect

When Beatrice knocked on Ava’s door the following week, there was no answer, and after waiting what would be considered a polite length of time—not that Ava cared for politeness—she turned the knob and walked in. The dark room greeted her, the sole source of light tiny and flickering. She pushed further into the room until she identified it; Ava’s computer screen was in front of her, Ava’s silhouette blocking some light, its owner oblivious that someone was in her room.

She remained unaware even when a gust of wind from the window pushed the room’s door shut.

At first, Beatrice didn’t know what to make of it. Ava was apparently too enamoured by what she was watching to notice any of her surroundings.

 _She’s a warrior nun! What if someone wanted to harm her?_ Beatrice’s stomach clenched at the thought.

She walked slowly to where Ava sat on her desk chair, her back to the door. There really was no way to not startle her. Beatrice stood far enough away that she remained out of Ava’s field of vision and looked more closely at the screen. To her surprise, she saw Simone Simons, Epica’s frontwoman, so clearly belting out a note. For what song, she couldn’t be sure though she could hear noise bleeding out of Ava’s headphones. But she immediately recognised the _Retrospect_ show, the same one she was watching the day Ava walked in on her—it was the band’s most impressive spectacle to date.

“Ava,” she called. As expected, Ava didn’t hear her name. Beatrice took a deep breath and tried again, this time in her rarely used louder tone, “Ava!”

Ava paused the video and looked behind her—a move Beatrice knew too well, that feeling of paranoia when she constantly felt someone was calling her over her headphones but couldn’t be completely sure.

The difference, though, was that when she noticed Beatrice behind her, Ava’s face showed no sign of shock, no jumping, nothing. Or if she jumped, it was so slight the light from the screen wasn’t enough for Beatrice to notice it.

But she had obviously been smiling.

Ava dangled the headphones around her neck; hers were red, unlike Beatrice’s navy-blue pair. A moment too late, Ava’s jump came, as if only now realising Beatrice’s presence.

With practised ease, Ava turned around completely, reaching next to her desk for the light switch, flicking it. Beatrice felt her face lighting up at the relaxed look on Ava’s face, the smile that was Ava’s constant companion despite being caught off-guard. She felt a tug in her chest.

 _Ava’s awkwardness is certainly adorable_ , came the intruding thought. This time, she welcomed it rather than tried to shut the voice out.. Beatrice still marvelled at how quickly and effortlessly she got used to Ava, her polar opposite. In a strange way, Beatrice’s entire demeanour relaxed around the other woman.

 _Ava, Ava, Ava_ , she thought, Ava’s name akin to a song stuck in her head.

“Bea!” Ava cried. “What are you doing here?”

Beatrice’s answering beam was too wide her jaw starting to ache.

“Why . . . Why are you smiling like that?” Ava squinted, the suspicion evident in her features.

“The question is, Ava, why are _you_?”

Beatrice almost saw the gears turning in Ava’s head, recognising the moment she decided there was no point in denying it. Her shoulders sagged, but she smiled.

“You caught me. I was watching that live show, the tenth-anniversary one.”  
“Obviously.”

“I—I figured if I can listen to their longest song without getting bored, I can watch a three-hour concert.” She shrugged.

“Really.” It wasn’t a question. “Comparing thirteen minutes to three hours.”

“It seems to be working so far.”

Beatrice envied how quickly Ava moved from the studio versions to the live show. It had taken Beatrice the better part of two years to become accustomed enough to the music to jump into _that_ live performance. Perhaps it was a result of her intense desire to first fall in love with everything, and analyse all the lyrics, that made her wait. She wanted to be sure she’d enjoy the live versions to the fullest.

“And their longest song?”

“ _Kingdom of Heaven_!” Ava said with the enthusiasm of a child knowing the answer to a question their teacher asked.

“You’ve been doing your research,” Beatrice said, not hiding how impressed she was.

Ava gave her the look of a betrayed puppy, and Beatrice immediately felt the urge to clarify.

“Don’t give me that look, Ava. I merely meant I was impressed,” she started. “I’ve told you about my experiences with people not taking what I love seriously.” The moment the words were uttered, she wanted to collect them, stuff them in a metal bin, and burn them until even their remains were scalding.

“After everything, Bea? I don’t know how I could’ve made it more obvious that I love the music.” Ava paused, then, “Don’t you get it? I love what you love.”

Beatrice’s tongue disappeared, dematerialised like it was never there. For the first time in her life, she was speechless.

Yes, she and Ava have shared several moments that can be categorised as “too scary”, in the sense they tended to have Beatrice swimming in a sea of inappropriate thoughts. But she never ran out of words, not until then.

Then it hit her.

All this time, she was too caught up in the music, too eager someone was finally appreciating it, that she utterly mistranslated Ava’s reactions. They were to the music, certainly, but she realised there was more to it.

More that she didn’t think of until Ava spelt it out for her.

To think she continually criticised Ava for being oblivious!

_I love what you love._

Ava was simply doing what one did when they cared about someone.

Too many thoughts swam in Beatrice’s head, and yet, not one made it out.

_Oh my God, what if I actually lost my tongue?_

“You didn’t,” Ava said. “Also, accidentally saying things out loud is my thing.”

_That’s it. Kill me now . . ._

“Heard that too.” Ava’s tone lightened. As if sensing Beatrice was about to talk, to apologise, she said, “It’s okay.”

Beatrice fiddled with the buttons of her shirt, her sweaty fingers slipping with every move. “What?”

The floor suddenly looked too interesting for Beatrice to look anywhere else.

“You don’t have to apologise for stealing my thing,” Ava said. Beatrice felt her eyes on her. She looked up and was met with Ava’s stupid smile. Her stupidly cute smile.

She felt herself respond. In numerous ways.

First, she took a deep breath. Second, she cracked a faint smile in return. And third, she signed her death certificate.

**_Cause of Death: Halo-bearer Cuteness._ **

“God, you’re adorable.” That was the fourth.

She blanched. Because yes, she said that aloud.

“I really hope you mean me, not God.”

“Yes . . .no. Yes. No, I mean yes.” Clearly, Beatrice hadn’t gotten the memo that she’d be accomplishing a lot of firsts today. Including being flustered, and its being a direct effect of another human being. Her breath caught and she released it with a shaky sigh. “Yes, I meant you.”

Ava chuckled. “For the record, you’re also adorable.”

Beatrice felt the heat creeping up her ears.

“Thank you,” she whispered. What else could she say?

“Do you have a headphones splitter?”

Beatrice shook herself back to the present. “What?”

Ava repeated her question.

“I do. What for?”

“Well, Bea, I don’t know. What is it usually used for?” Ava asked with an air of sarcasm.

Beatrice wracked her brain for the answer. She concluded it had definitely short-circuited. She knew the answer was obvious, but at that moment, her mind came up with exactly nil.

“It connects two headphones to the same device?”

Right.

“Are you okay?” Ava gave her arm a feather-like touch.

Beatrice squeezed her eyes then opened them. “Yes. Just lost in thought.”

Ava’s smile returned. “So are you going to watch with me or what?” She flicked her chin in the screen’s direction.

Beatrice brightened, finally grasping the end of her awkward streak today. Not to mention that there was never a bad time to watch Retrospect. “I can’t wait for your reaction to _Mother of Light_ ,” she told Ava, omitting that the band technically didn’t play the song in that show, only as a part of an orchestral medley—a clever way to re-create six songs in less time than it would have taken to play them in full. Beatrice almost teared up as she remembered its beauty.

She ran to her room to get her headphones and the splitter, and her sunglasses; the light show got brutal.

When she returned, Ava had brought in an extra chair and two reusable water bottles were in full view on the floor by the desk. Ava had also rewound the video to the beginning.

“I thought our first time watching it together should be special,” she said when Beatrice commented on it. “And the water,” she continued although Beatrice didn’t ask about the bottles, “is because three hours is a long time to go without.”

Clearly, Ava had thought of everything.

Beatrice sat in the chair next to hers. When Ava saw her fidgeting in her seat, she wordlessly unplugged her laptop and carried it to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“The bed is comfier,” Ava said. Beatrice couldn’t argue with that logic. So she flicked the lights off and picked up the water bottles. She sat beneath the covers in the space Ava left for her, connecting the headphones to the splitter, then to the computer.

This close to Ava, she hoped the show would be enough to distract her from thoughts of the inappropriate kind.

“Ready?” Ava finally asked as she scooted closer. When her arm brushed Beatrice’s, she felt that tingle. The one all the love stories swore by.

This was going to be harder than she thought. _Lord, give me patience_.

But she didn’t move her arm away.

And as they started watching, Beatrice realised she didn’t mind the touch. Relished it, even. Wanted more of it. She also realised she could get used to it.

She could get used to this.

For the longest time, she had taken comfort in Epica’s music. It was the one place she could abandon pretence and be herself. It had always been her safe space. But now, Ava was also becoming one, a safe space to pour her hopes and fears.

With the two colliding, she had no doubt in her mind that Ava would make her safe space even safer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look out for an extra (first kiss) scene—taking place after this—that I just posted, as part 2 of the "series" (so a separate work) because it didn't fit with the 5+1 premise but I still wanted to share it.
> 
> And if you got all the way here, I just want to say thank you for loving this story as much as you did. Your feedback is truly what keeps me writing.


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